


Loyalty is When You Fight Together

by Crowoxy



Series: Platonic Paladins and Aliens [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Backstory, Gen, Military Backstory, Minor Violence, Racism, lotor also taking no one's bullshit, narti is just awesome, zethrid taking none of this shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 19:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12589144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowoxy/pseuds/Crowoxy
Summary: Zethrid has always been set on the military. The military was just never set on her until Lotor came around.Part of the Platonic VLD Week 3: Day 2 - Inside/Outside- Note: the prompt is barely touched upon as per usual.





	Loyalty is When You Fight Together

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I did not mean for this to be so long. Why can I not make things easier on myself? Anyways, day 2 of the VLD Platonic week on Tumblr. It's slightly late, but I'm not going to say anything negative about that. Enjoy this backstory of Zethrid and how (I THINK) she meets Lotor.

Not joining the Galra military was never an option for Zethrid. Her mother had been in the military before being dishonorably discharged for an unauthorized and unfavorable personal relationship and her mother had been in the military and died as a captain of the ground troops stationed on the planet Taujeer when Zethrid was eight deacphoebs old. Being in the military ran in the family, and it didn’t matter that Zorthraz was kicked out, and it most certainly didn’t matter that Zethrid was a half-breed Galra.

Oh, the recruitment posters and recruiters themselves didn’t say a word that half-Galra were not allowed in the military; after all, Galra were meant to be fighters and joining the military was the ultimate proof that one was dedicated to their Galra heritage. 

“Let’s hope you don’t hold us back, half-breed.” Jarla sneered. He was a cadet, same as Zethrid, and they both had been newly assigned to Captain Prolvor’s unit on planet Pollux following a grueling bootcamp training that lasted six phoebs.

“I would worry more about you collapsing and being left behind in the dirt.” Zethrid shot back, systematically checking that all of her gear was attached. Jarla snarled at Zethrid, his fangs sharpened to make him look more threatening but Zethrid just laughed. She had beaten him down in training too often to feel afraid of Jarla, as hostile as he was to her.

It wasn’t like he was the only ill-tempered soldier in the unit, anyways. Funnily enough, they mostly seemed to be ill tempered just around her.

“Squad Foxtrot, get moving! You’re patrolling the shore for the next ten vargas!” Sergeant Drax bellowed from the row of buildings that housed the senior members of the army.

“Yes Sir!” Zethrid shouted with the other nine members of the unit before marching out of the base towards the ocean in the east. Pollux was not yet under complete Galra control; rebel fighters still decorated most of the planet, although the Empire had been gaining ground in the past few quintents.

The ten-soldier squad dropped into formation, two standing shoulder to shoulder in one straight line. Zethrid stood in the back as she always had, telling herself it was because the others trusted her enough to watch their backs and not because they refused to see a half-breed lead them. 

“Pollux is a rather pretty planet, don’t you think, Xena?” Zethrid turned to her partner, once the squad had moved out of the base and the others were all turning to speak to each other. There were no commanders to tell them off and they were still green enough to break formation once supervision had vanished. 

“Do not speak to me, half-breed,” Xena didn’t even turn to look at Zethrid, choosing to break the line apart to walk ahead, “I still do not understand how’s you were allowed into the army, being what you are.”

“I am a Galra,” Zethrid said stiffly, “Just as you are, here to serve our glorious Empire.”

“You are no Galra,” Xena sniffed. 

“Everyone knows half-breeds are inferior to _real_ Galra soldiers.” One of the other cadets butted in. “At best, you’d just be cannon fodder while the rest of us get promoted. That’s just how life is.” 

Half-breeds were not restricted from entering the army, but the army did not welcome them. All Galra knew this unspoken rule, this divide that separated the true Galra from everyone else in the empire. Zethrid hated it; hated how she was the best soldier Captain Prolvor had assigned to them but because of her birth, Zethrid would never be acknowledged or included. 

She could destroy her entire squad with little difficulty. Zethrid watched as they walked ahead, not caring if she followed. Xena, for all her snobbery would be easy; the _pure-blooded_ Galra was so confident in her lineage, so sure in her genetic skills, she would never see Zethrid coming from behind until Xena was on the ground. Rifxa, Tipci, and Meenu would be trickier; all three of them were faster than Zethrid, but slow to draw their weapons. The others were average at hand-to-hand combat at best, a skill Zethrid dominated in, and so they would also go down very quickly against Zethrid. They had numerous times before although Jarla would deny ever being bested by a _half-breed._  

It was aggravating at best, and downright insulting every other time. 

Three of the soldiers cried out as something hit the tree in front of them and it groaned and fell away from them. Bark shrapnel littered the ground and dusted the leaders of the squad line. 

“Well that wasn’t as big of an explosion as I was hoping.” Zethrid frowned, tossing a small rock in her right hand. What she had wanted was the tree to implode completely, breaking it in half or something similar. Maybe she should use a bigger pebble next time.

“You…” Xena has scrambled as far away from Zethrid as possible, but it was Jarla who spoke. Well, spat because it couldn’t be easy speaking with a mouthful of bark splinters. All of the other cadets looked properly horrified. 

Good. Maybe this was the thing to have them listen to her and notice that she wasn’t just some beast trying to pose as a Galra. 

Zethrid showed all of her teeth. “All proper Galra should be strong enough to break down a tree.” 

No one said a word, a few of the cadets looking nervous as they looked to the tree and back at Zethrid. Jarla didn’t take his eyes off of her for several ticks, his claws curled into fists and teeth clenched. Xena whistled and Jarla turned away with a low growl, resuming the patrol.

Zethrid knew they would report to the Sergeant as soon as the patrol was control. They would say that Zethrid had no control of her temper, that she barely refrained from attacking her own squad. And she knew that the higher ups would buy the story without any input from what her side of the story was. Everyone knew half-breeds lied and were less competent; the captain was probably itching to be given an excuse to throw Zethrid out of his army.

Zethrid scowled at her squadmates’ backs, bringing up the rear of the squad on her own. It wasn’t fair. She had been training for the military her entire life, her mother had raised her to be the best soldier the Galra Military had ever produced. Yet, it would be these fuzzfaces that couldn’t even tell the end of a blaster to their foot, who would one day be captains and commanders while the best she could hope for was a promotion to an officer. 

A whistle sung overhead and Zethrid paused. The species of birds on this planet may be different from where she had grown up, but Zethrid knew the difference between an avian cry and the sound of a mammalian whistle. 

“Get off the path!” She shouted at her squad, already rolling to the side and under a bush. Zethrid shouldn’t have been surprised when the other Galra didn’t listen to her warning and they were caught up in a missile blast that tore up the ground beneath their feet. Galra soldiers were thrown into the air, all of them screaming as rebel fighters from the native population of Pollux descended from the trees ahead of the patrol. The Arielians had a similar build to the Galra, except with smooth, red skin, and less height. One on one, a Galra soldier could easily defeat an Arielian, but with over three times the number of rebels compared to soldiers… it would not be an easy win. 

Zethrid rolled out of the bushes and right on top of Tipci. He was crying and screaming in pain, his lower legs nothing but bloody stubs from being too close to the missile when it hit the ground.

“Jarla! Tipci needs cover!” Zethrid spotted Jarla sprinting towards them, a few others hot on his heels. “We need a plan of attack!” 

“Fight them if you want, Half-breed, I intend to live through past this day!” Without another glance back, her squad mates had vanished, back towards the camp where they would hopefully find refuge.

Cowards, the lot of them. 

“Victory or Death!” Zethrid bellowed after them. Now was not the time to be angry at her fellow soldiers. Now was the time to focus. “Vrepit sa!” 

Just as she had done barely a varga ago, Zethrid threw a stone into a tree, and she had been right. A bigger stone caused a bigger explosion and the Arielians shouted as a fifty foot tree groaned and fell on top of their force. Zethrid used the commotion to jump into the middle of fray, pulling out her military issued laser pistol and using it to snipe at the rebels still hidden in the dust cloud. 

It was nothing but chaos. Zethrid fought tooth and nail, even throwing the bodies of fallen Arielians at their comrades. So when the screams increased, Zethrid paid it no mind, until a new Galra entered the playing field. 

“I apologize for stealing your thunder,” Whoever this newcomer was, he knew how to fight. His sword wasn’t the standard buster style sword Zethrid was used to her superiors wielding. He used a sort of rapier-long sword, graceful and quick, ducking in and out of the laser blasts and weaponry the rebels desperately tried to reach him with.

“However, my friend is working on taking out the rear, but a few have slipped past her. I figured you could use the assistance.” 

“Any help is appreciated,” Zethrid grunted as she picked up one of the enemy spears and swiped at another rebel trying to gut her. To her left, an Arielisan turned away and began attacking their own army.

“Ah,” the white-haired Galra said as he neatly decapitated his target. “Narti finally made it through.” 

It didn’t take much longer until the last Arielisan fell and Zethrid was left standing with her two helpers. They were both shorter than her and one - the one with the sword had called them Narti - had a feline curled up around their shoulders. Weird. Neither one of them could have been much older than she was. 

“Well, thanks for the assistance. I might have been toast if you hadn’t shown up.” Zethrid wasn’t sure what to say.

“It was no problem.” The white haired one shrugged. “If your squad hadn’t run off, we might not have been needed.” Zethrid had nearly forgotten that detail, she had been so caught up in the fight, so in tune with the Galra standing in front of her, that she had pushed aside the fact that it should have been at least nine Galra against the rebels.

“Not like anything is going to happen to them for breaking orders,” Zethrid muttered, “Pure Galra don’t _make_ mistakes like that.” She walked over to Tipci who lay too still on the ground; the only good news she could see was that he was still breathing and the bleeding had slowed from his legs. 

“Do you plan on staying with the military, then?” 

“For as long as they’ll have me.” Zethrid picked Tipci up and swung him over her shoulder. “I’ll see what happens when I drop him off for treatment.” 

“Very well. Narti?” The Galra made a series of hand gestures to the other and the one with the cat nodded. 

“What did you tell them?” Zethrid asked, unable to curb her curiosity. 

“I was simply asking if she wanted to come along,” a shrug and the two Galra fell into step with Zethrid and she headed back to the military base. “And she agreed, which does make me more relaxed.”

It didn’t take long for the four of them to arrive at the camp, Zethrid leading the way with Tipci. 

“Half-breed! What is the meaning of this?” Sergeant Drax stomped his way over to the entrance of the camp. “Eight squad members come back quintants before the patrol is over and here you come, ambling in with a half-dead soldier!” 

“Sir, there was a rebel force, sir!” And your precious _pure_ soldiers did nothing to help, she wanted to add. She could see Jarla leaning against a building a few paces ahead, and if it weren’t for the badly injured Tipci in her arms, she would have gone over and punched his face in.

“You expect me to believe that you held off and defeated a rebel force by yourself, while Cadet Tipci here had to be carried by you off the battlefield?”

‘Sergeant Drax, correct?” The white haired Galra stepped forward, “it seems to me like you clearly do not have your priorities in check. You have an injured soldier right in front of you, yet instead of getting medical, you waste time spitting out accusations at a very fine cadet who performed admirably. This does not bode well for your future in this base.” 

“And who, in the name of Emperor Zarkon, do you think you are, barging in here just like that?” Sergeant Drax didn’t lower his voice. Zethrid saw a smile grow on the smaller Galra’s face and she felt a chill run down her spine; whoever he was, Drax was probably not going to like the answer. 

“What a fitting way to ask, Drax. I am Prince Lotor, son of Emperor Zarkon of the Galra Empire, and I was sent here for a surprise inspection of your base. Which was a smart move on my father’s part, clearly I need to speak to the Captain of the base and see if they are any less incompetent than you have proven yourself to be.” 

“Pr - prince Lotor!” Drax looked like he was running to the Captain’s barrack with his tail between his legs, and in any other circumstance Zethrid would have found this situation hilarious. Well, she still did but laughing now might get her discharged from the army and she wanted to still be a part of it, as stupid as they were. 

“Can someone please get a medic for this poor soldier over here?” Prince Lotor was still smiling. “Oh, I never got your name, cadet. What can I call you?” 

“Zethrid.” Never in her wildest dreams did Zethrid ever think she would be meeting with a member of the royal family; she wasn’t important enough to anyone. “If I had known who you were - “ 

“You would have done exactly the same thing, Zethrid.” Prince Lotor interrupted. “Let’s not stand on formality between us, we already shared a battle together.” 

Lotor might have said more but the medical droids came to take Tipci and Captain Prolvor himself followed them. 

“Prince Lotor. What a gracious surprise that you’ve come to see us on Pollux. I see you are hard at work since your father reinstated you as heir apparent a few phoebes ago.” Captain Prolvor towered over Lotor, he was abnormally tall by Galran standards. 

“The pleasure would be all mine, if I didn’t find your troops lacking in every skill, Captain.” Lotor smiled like he was at a party, a politician’s smile.

“If that half-breed has caused you any problems, let me know and I can take care of the problem.” 

“Half-breed? Are you in fact referring to cadet Zethrid, here?” Lotor took a step forward towards the Captain. “Funnily enough, Captain, that _half-breed_ , was the only soldier in the squad that stayed to fight and defend; all of your other cadets ran to save their own skins. Admirable, if they felt it was the best course of action to fight another day. But stupid because they left behind their own comrades without hesitation. Are those the type of soldiers you want in your army Captain?” 

“You can’t trust what you hear from a half-breed.” Captain Prolvor protested. 

“I was there, Captain. I saw the entire thing. Are you _doubting_ what I witnessed?” 

“No, sir.” Prolvor looked murderous. 

“Good.” Lotor turned to Zethrid. “Cadet Zethrid. You have proven yourself to be the _only_ competent soldier on this base. I would like to offer you a promotion to a position as one of my Generals. Or if you like, you can stay here on Pollux under Captain Prolvor, who clearly runs his army with the best of his ability.”

Zethrid didn’t even need to waste a moment to think on the offer before accepting it. She dropped to one knee, next to Lotor, her right hand in a fist over her heart. “Vrepit Sa, Prince Lotor, of course I accept.”

“No need to kneel in front of me, General Zethrid. I expect you only to perform your duties to the best of your abilities.” Lotor turned and started to walk away. “Come, General Zethrid, General Narti. I expect that when we return, Pollux will have substantially improved.” 

“Wait!” Jarla dashed after them, his skin flushed a dark purple. “You cannot choose Zethrid as your General, Your Highness. She is but a half-breed, not a pure Galra, everyone knows how inferior they are!” 

“Are you quite finished, cadet?” Lotor didn’t turn around, “Why should I care that Zethrid is a half-breed? She has more than proven herself about her fighting capabilities to me, which is all that matters. The Galra Empire has no need for fools who run at the first sight of danger. You should quit the army and become a farmer. At least you might practice standing your ground against the animals there.” 

This was Zethrid’s happiest moment; the day she found a place to be accepted, regardless of her parentage. Where she felt part of a unit at the start, instead of trying to force her way in to be included. She was at home with all of the other Generals and Lotor and Zethrid never wanted that to change.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Can you tell I died at the end? Because I so very clearly died at the end. Maybe I'll fix it up later.


End file.
